


We Got Too Close to the Flame

by doctormccoy



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Apology Sex, Commission fic, Fluff, M/M, Marriage, Post BoFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormccoy/pseuds/doctormccoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bilbo surrenders the Arkenstone to Thorin, he's shocked by the reaction he garners. Fast forward to after the Battle, and Thorin continues to surprise the hobbit, who learns that not all surprises are necessarily bad ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Got Too Close to the Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Commission fic delivery for the amazing and wonderfully patient [bitsandbobsoffluffandstuff.](http://bitsandbobsoffluffandstuff.tumblr.com) I am so sorry for the wait, but, I hope this fic was enjoyable!

No one had died.

Bilbo still wasn't convinced that it wasn't all a fantastic dream, or a crazy, desperate fantasy concocted in his hysteria. 

Not that it hadn't been a close call. Thorin and his nephews had certainly tried their best to get killed, at any rate, and Bilbo had the vicious satisfaction of watching the Lady Dis give them all a proper tongue lashing for their stupidity. The trio had been too laid up with their healing injuries to escape her wrath, either, something that Bilbo knew she took great pleasure in exploiting.

The Battle had been no place for a hobbit, which was something Bilbo and Thorin had agreed on, though it was hardly about to stop Bilbo from taking part. If Thorin could overcome his gold sickness for Bilbo, then Bilbo could overcome a few orcs for Thorin.

It sounded nice in theory, but, practice was another thing entirely.

Bilbo toyed idly with his pen as the nobles around him argued over treaties with Bard of Dale, his eyes staring through Thorin more than at him to the months that had led up to this moment. 

Thorin had already been so lost in the sickness of his line when he turned his sword on Bilbo, had threatened him over a stone even as a dragon raged towards them. Bilbo had given it to him against his better judgment, had pulled the beautiful stone from his pocket and presented it to Thorin.

Perhaps he'd just been a hopeless romantic and a fool, but, he'd let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, Thorin was still in there somewhere.

Bilbo still insists that the arrival of a very live dragon had been what had broken whatever spell the stone had cast upon Thorin, but, the dwarf himself said that seeing how much Bilbo feared him, and the weight of the sword in his hand, still pointed at the hobbit, had pushed him to realize the beast he had become. 

Either way, it seemed that Thorin's sanity had returned for the moment, and it gave them the leader they needed to escape the dragon's fire. Bilbo had never felt like he truly was a part of the Company, until the moment that Smaug disappeared beneath a pool of molten gold. Thorin clung to the chain high above and Bilbo watched his face fill with the glow of triumph.

That hadn't been the end of it, for fire could not kill a dragon, and they watched in horror as Smaug descended upon the unsuspecting Laketown. Later they found out that Bard, with help from Fili, had taken down the dragon with a black arrow that he'd hid all these long years. But in those terrible hours before finding out that his heirs had survived the dragon's wrath, Bilbo saw an immediate change in Thorin.

There was grief and horror in his eyes where there should have been victory and joy at ridding the mountain of the great worm. He saw what pain his greed had caused the Company, their Burglar, the Men of Laketown, and his own kin. 

When Thorin refused to accept Bard's demands for repayment, Bilbo's pleased in a somewhat desperate way to know that it's entirely out of idiotic pride that he refuses, and his loathing for the Elf King that stood beside Bard, rather than out of blind goldlust. Seeing Thranduil arrive in time to claim the reward but suffer none of the grief had been the final straw for the dwarf, and Bard's biggest mistake. Bilbo knew it the second he saw him step out from behind the former bargeman that there was now no possible way any of them would convince Thorin to treat for a single gold coin.

Even Fili's urging that Bard was a good man and a worthy ally fell on deaf ears.

Then Dain had arrived with his army, and chaos broke loose on the scorched earth and rock in the mountain's shadow, only to increase tenfold when Azog roared in with his orcs and wargs.

It seemed all was lost, and Bilbo had watched with nothing short of broken hearted horror as Beorn's hulking bear form carried three terribly small looking, battered bodies back into Erebor. 

He hadn't been conscious to see the rest of the battle, having been struck hard on the back of the head by an orc's armored elbow, but he'd been told that the arrival of the eagles had been what turned the tide and led them all to victory. Bilbo hadn't been found until many long hours later, due to the invisibility his magic ring had granted him. He never realized that the ring's powers could backfire on him until he woke up, cold and stiff and covered in drying mud and blood, rather than in the cozy tents where the wounded rested and recovered, and had to limp the entire way there himself over corpses so mutilated he could not tell whether they were dwarf, man, or elf. 

Thorin had been nearly beside himself when he saw Bilbo was alive, having been told that the hobbit's body had yet to be found amongst the carnage, and had to be sharply reprimanded by an extremely irritable Thranduil that there was still time for him to die if he kept trying to stand up with a hole in his belly.

The sound of someone saying his name cuts through traipse into the past, and he looks up sharply to see the expectant faces of the Council all looking his way. He coughs to try and cover his embarrassment and sits up straight in his seat, dropping his pen and folding his hands neatly in front of him.

"My apologies, I got a bit lost trying to think up a solution," he mumbled, resolutely ignoring the amused smirk on Thorin's face beside him.

"Welcome back, then, Master Burglar. We were just trying to decide how best to deal with your presence here," came Thorin's heavy baritone, and that most certainly caught Bilbo's attention.

"I... was not aware my mental wanderings were worth the Council's time," he said slowly, trying to puzzle out exactly what he was getting himself into now.

Thorin doesn't even get a chance to answer before a fusty old Longbeard stood up and pounded his fist, looking utterly enraged at apparently not being heard.

"It is entirely improper that our secret Councils are sat in on this outsider. Friend though he may be to Erebor, he is still no dwarf nor kin to any of our people. Bilbo Baggins must return to the Shire with his own kind," he snarled, and the hobbit's mouth fell open in surprise. They were trying to make him leave the mountain?

Bilbo had never really given the idea of leaving much thought. This is where he belonged, with the Company, with his friends.

With _Thorin._

He couldn't leave now, not after everything they'd been through together.

The King looked contemplatively between Bilbo and the grim faces of his Council, and the former burglar could hardly believe how calm he was. Did he even care at all that they were trying to send him away?

"So, if Bilbo were to become kin then he would be permitted to stay?"

The question throws everyone off balance, even Bilbo, and thirteen pairs of eyes all fix on Thorin, waiting for him to clarify what in Mahal's name he could be getting at.

"Well," began the same dwarf that had spoken before, sidling uneasily on his feet as if he were trying to decide if escaping would be smarter than answering, "I suppose, so, yes. If Master Baggins became kin it would satisfy our laws."

Thorin's smirk only grew and he slapped his hand on the table, looking triumphant.

"That decides it, then."

He turned to look at Bilbo, who was starting to suspect something very big indeed, and grabbed his hand, looking far more excited than anyone had any right to be. 

"Marry me, Bilbo."

Later Thorin would lament that this was, perhaps, not the _best_ way to propose to anyone, especially not a hobbit with a distinct aversion to surprises.

"I did say I was sorry," he murmured against Bilbo's hipbone, trailing kisses across the sensitive skin and cleaning up the streaks of white with his tongue as he went. It'd taken two orgasms before his hobbit had forgiven his impropriety - "Honestly, Thorin, in front of the entire Council!" - but a lounging, boneless Bilbo was far more merciful than an angry, embarrassed one.

The hobbit groaned when Thorin withdrew his fingers, clenching around the sudden emptiness, and pushed at his head as the rough swipes of his tongue over Bilbo's softened cock swiftly became too much. It'd been a while since he'd had such a satisfying afternoon, and he was almost pleased for the free time they had, before remembering how exactly it'd come about once more.

"I can't believe you proposed to me in front of a bunch of fussy old nobles," he groused, not deaf to the weary sigh Thorin makes as he slides back up to kiss the hobbit, arm draped heavily across his soft belly.

"How many times must I apologize before you are satisfied? Do you want me to take it back and ask again?" he murmured, taking Bilbo's hand and raising it to his mouth to press a single, bristly kiss over the mithril band he now wore. 

Bilbo surveyed him critically, as if contemplating whether he really did want Thorin to propose again, before he rolls his eyes and knocks their foreheads together playfully.

"I'd rather you not. I can only imagine the horrors of a planned proposal. For all I know, next time you would ask me in front of the entire Kingdom," he snorted, only to groan once more at the embarrassed look this gets him.

"You wouldn't!"

A halfhearted shrug is all he needs to know before Thorin is kissing him to silence his protests, though Bilbo does allow himself a revengeful tug of the lone braid Thorin had that survived their lovemaking, before surrendering to the insistent press of his tongue. He's pretty sure he's far too tired for another go, but the King has yet to seek his own pleasure, and Bilbo thought it quite unfair to let his husband to be go unfulfilled, even if he was as thick as Bombur's bread pudding sometimes.

He shoves at Thorin's shoulder until the dwarf dutifully rolls over onto his back, and Bilbo pulls himself up to straddle his waist, pleased that he's already quite slick and open from his lover's earlier efforts to bring him off.

"You are the most ridiculous old dwarf I have ever known," he declared solemnly, cutting off any chance that Thorin can respond to that by sinking down onto his cock. The burn of his body stretching to accommodate his lover's girth is delicious, and Bilbo licks at his lips as he gives an experimental roll of his hips, hands planted over the knotted furl of scar tissue on the dwarf's belly.

"Yes, that's very nice.. You stay still and let me steer this ship."

Thorin knew better than to disagree with Bilbo when the hobbit took control, and so he sprawled back against the pillows and, in Bilbo's opinion looking unfairly, disgustingly majestic, watched him grind and rock on his cock, his own giving a valiant effort at hardening between his thighs. 

The Dwarf King doesn't last very long, not after spending the better part of the afternoon wringing orgasms out of his gorgeous future Consort, and certainly not when Bilbo rakes his fingernails through the thick pelt of hair on his chest and over his sensitive nipples. That had been a lovely surprise for them both, when Bilbo discovered that one evening. He got little pleasure from touch to his own nipples, so imagine his shock when his nails had caught on one of Thorin's during a particularly rough bout of fucking and shoved the dwarf over the edge with a throaty bellow of pleasure. 

It was a detail that Bilbo definitely had no problem exploiting, both in and out of bed, and Thorin wasn't going to tell his devious little hobbit quite yet that his favorite way of fucking thus far involved Bilbo buried deep in Thorin's own snug heat, one small hand on his cock and the other pinching at his nipples. Especially not when Bilbo had a habit of rubbing a palm over his chest when they were outside their quarters, only to cast him a smug, satisfied look and leave Thorin behind, hardening in his trousers at the rough scratch of his tunic against his nipples.

Digging bruises into Bilbo's hips with the tightness of his grip, Thorin groans and spills inside his hobbit, a string of dwarvish curses and terms of endearment falling from his lips in a rush, interspersed with Bilbo's name. 

They were married in the springtime, and Thorin consented to letting Bilbo braid flowers into his hair and beard, as was the custom in the Shire, and Bilbo let him put beads of mithril and gemstone in his curls as was tradition. The people celebrated the happiness of their King, and the prosperity of their recovering Kingdom.

The only ones who were not enjoying the merriment were the fussy old nobles of Thorin's Council, but, no one really gave them any mind. They were never going to be happy, anyways. 

Especially not when the emetic that Dis had mixed into their food hit them.


End file.
